


Build Me Up Buttercup

by orphan_account



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bondage, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, F/M, Femdom, Mentions of Impact Play, Pegging, The Sanctuary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-27 05:53:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20943389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Mallory and Michael have an evening in at the Sanctuary.





	Build Me Up Buttercup

**Author's Note:**

> The plot and characters of AHS: Apocalypse belong to Ryan Murphy and Brad Falchuk. All mistakes are my own. 
> 
> Title from The Foundations' "Build Me Up Buttercup."
> 
> It's my birthday, I'll write pegging if I want to.

Mallory hooks her fingers through the back of the collar fastened around Michael’s throat and yanks, jerking his head up and cutting off his air. “How did it feel? Wearing it around for me?” 

The padded leather cuffs around Michael’s wrists and ankles don’t chafe against his skin as his back bows into the pressure. However, his shoulders ache where they’re stretched over his head and his hips are starting to get sore from the way the spreader bar is holding his legs apart. He’s face down on the huge bed held exactly where Mallory wants him and how.

He swallows against the restriction of his airway and tries desperately to find his words. His mistress doesn’t like to repeat herself.

A full minute ticks over before Michael can make his leaden tongue move. “Good,” he says, pushing the word out from between chewed lips, weak and gutted. “It felt good.”

He thinks about attending his Cooperative meetings with his ass stretched wide around the plug she’d eased into him that morning and makes a pained sound, hips twitching backwards and muscles clenching uselessly around the base of the toy.

Mallory puts her lips next to his ear. “I bet you were hard and aching under your suit,” she breathes. “I wish I could have been there. You’d have shown me. Bent yourself over that conference table so that I could see how full you were.” She taps a finger against the red jewel at the end of the plug. “Are.”

Slippery silicone slides forward inside of Michael and nudges that spot inside of him until he feels precome ooze from the slit of his cock. “Yes,” he agrees, head spinning with crazed arousal. “Anything you want.” 

Husky laughter sounds in his ear. “Anything I want?” Mallory gives the plug one more tap and then smooths her palm over the globes of his ass. Michael winces and bites off a whine as her fingernails dig into the stinging welts that she caned into his flesh a few minutes earlier. 

“What if I want to fuck your ass until you’re raw and screaming? Would you like that, sweetheart?” 

Michael’s throat catches on another desperate noise. He fights to pull shallow breaths past the pinch of the collar and thinks that he could come like this, writhing on the plug with Mallory murmuring in his ear. But she hasn’t given him permission. He has to wait. Has to be good. 

“Green,” he gasps, stupidly proud that he remembered the right response.

Mallory releases his collar and tucks a piece of his long hair behind his ear. “Good boy.”

Michael clenches his eyes shut at the praise and leans toward her hand, chasing the touch. Frantic need batters the cage of his chest. He wants her to take him out of his head. Take him apart and bring him back to earth. 

…

Mallory’s ecstatic at Michael's response. She loves this. Loves having him on his hands and knees, open and desperate for her.

Her husband may run the Sanctuary, may be king of the new world, but here in their suite of rooms _she’s _the one in charge. The Supreme.

Sitting back on her knees behind Michael, Mallory enjoys the way the light from the fireplace dances over his sweat soaked skin. She’s touched every inch of his body except his cock and she’s pretty sure that he’s losing his mind if the way that he’s leaking against the sheets is anything to go by. 

He has her sympathy. His little grunts of pain in response to the brutal strikes that she’d landed against his ass had had her folds swelling and arousal dripping down her inner thighs. She's so wet, in fact, that there’s practically no resistance as she slips the harness free strap on inside of herself. Moaning involuntarily at the fullness, Mallory clenches around the toy and feels a shudder snake up her spine as the bulb presses against her g-spot.

Ready to begin, she slides a condom down over the wicked curve of the dildo and grabs the lube resting on the bed near Michael’s foot. The pop of the cap opening is loud and makes him flinch. Smirking, Mallory slicks the latex up liberally.

She runs a steadying hand up Michael's spine and grasps the end of the plug in his ass. “Push down and breath,” she tells him. Mallory sees his ribcage contract with an inhale and pulls. The wet, sucking sound of the tapered plug leaving his hole is obscene.

“Jesus,” Michael slurs, pink rim still gaping and trying to spasm closed. “I need you.”

It’s not begging yet, but Michael’s voice is strained like he’s fighting tears. It won’t take much to get him there and Mallory’s happy to reward him. 

Grabbing his hips with both of her hands, Mallory settles into position and gently pushes into Michael’s ass. Stretched as he is, he offers no resistance, just sucks her in, greedy and open.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so pretty on my cock,” she says, gliding forward until her hips meet his ass. She’s already starting to ripple around the end of the dildo, sensation sparking in her clit from the first thrust. Finding Michael’s sweet spot requires a slight angle adjustment. Mallory knows she’s found it when he sobs and buries his face in the blankets. Pleased, she hitches his hips up and back and starts to fuck him in earnest.

“I could do this for hours,” she says evenly. “Keep you trapped and speared on my cock until you’re nothing but a puddle of sweat and come.”

Michael mewls and does his best to rock into each rough shove of the dildo. If he weren’t capable of healing himself, she’d be concerned about him dislocating a shoulder. He’s wild and beautiful beneath her, back rippling with strain, wanting so badly to be taken—claimed.

“That’s it, baby, surrender.” Mallory watches as Michael relaxes into his bonds, just goes limp and takes it, and exhales sharply, a pulsing wave of sensation building in her core. His submission is intoxicating. 

“God, I wish I could feel you right now,” she tells Michael, voice breathy with longing. “You’re always so soft and warm around my fingers. Maybe one of these nights I'll give you my whole hand. Would you like that?”

…

Michael’s dying. The thought of Mallory fucking him with her fist is too much. 

He’s lost and floating but held firm by the shackles around his limbs and by Mallory’s hands at his hips. If she doesn’t touch his cock soon, he might black out and die or explode with frustration.

"Please," Michael says, "please, please, touch me, Mistress– "

“Say it again. I love that word from you.”

“Please!”

Mallory coos softly in response to his obedience. “What a good little slut you are, Michael. But you only get to come from being fucked.”

Michael clenches his ass anxiously. “No, no, no, no,” he wails. “I can’t—I need it!” Pressure is building up inside of him, a golden bubble that he’s eager to burst. He wants to come for her, wants to squirt all over their bed like the slut she says he is.

Not slowing her thrusts, Mallory moves a hand up to tangle in his hair and pulls viciously on the strands. Fire breaks out along Michael’s scalp and the tears that he’s been fighting for the last half an hour spill out of his eyes.

“I decide what you can and cannot do,” Mallory snaps. “If I say you’ll come from me pounding your sweet ass then that’s what’s going to happen.” 

“I’m sorry,” Michael cries, afraid that she’ll punish him with denial. “I’m sorry. I want it. Please make me come.”

“Shhh, I’ve got you,” his lover soothes. “I’ve got all of you.”

…

Mallory lets go of Michael’s hair and switches her rhythm into sharp, short strokes that nail his prostate punishingly and provide her clit with needed friction. Feeling herself start to climax, she reaches around his hip, seizes the soft skin of his balls between her forefinger and thumb and twists. “Come,” she tells him.

Michael yowls like a scalded cat and shakes with full body tremors. They tip over into release together, Mallory still pumping into him with everything she’s got, bruising his skin with her fingers.

Eventually, she collapses in a heap against his back. Her quads ache with exhaustion.

The room is quiet for a long minute, full of the harsh sound of their breathing.

Mallory pulls out of Michael’s ass and presses a kiss to his lower back. Removing the dildo from inside of herself is as easy as insertion. The bulb pops free of her cunt with a quick tug and the whole apparatus is discarded on a waiting towel. Next, she removes the spreader bar and checks Michael's circulation. Satisfied that his toes are still pink and warm, she crawls up his body and puts her lips against the cheekbone not turned into the bed. Her tongue licks tenderly at the drying tracks of his tears. “Do you want out of the cuffs?” she asks.

Michael cracks a hazy blue eye open and smiles at her dreamily. “Not yet.” Nodding her understanding, Mallory releases the chain holding his hands over his head and spoons up behind his back.

“That was nice,” Michael purrs. “Really nice. Thank you.”

Mallory huffs a laugh and pets across his chest, kneading into muscles that will be sore tomorrow. “You’re so high right now,” she says, smiling.

Michael turns over slowly in her arms and rasps his five-o-clock shadow against her breasts, nestling in for cuddles. “Happy anniversary,” he murmurs.

Mallory feels her heart squeeze fiercely with love. “Happy anniversary,” she whispers back.


End file.
